Stranger Gong Show


I'm gonna hop onstage and belly dance tonight! Come and cheer for me. It will be worth $5, I promise.
Well, when your name is Fucking Cunt Face, it's pretty easy to get 14 quarters up your nose.
My jug band will be going for the gold. Please be kind.
I'll be there laughing at your shame. Thank you for the privilege!
All I have to say is that justice had nothing to do with the outcome. Seriously, judges, could you not get your heads out of your asses? That may be unduly harsh, as I do not have the evidence that the results cannot be heaped on the shoulders of one.

What could have been a glorious night of blossoming talent and flagrantly horrific missteps became an evening of aborted acts, thanks to the abuse of the gong. Could you not hold off those nasty little instructive agendas and let us enjoy the terrible lack of talent as it developed?

Oh, no. You had to affirm your position as firmly avant garde by awarding the best-in-show to a group that did not actually produce any content or perform any acts of skill. Hooray, po-mo. You somehow managed to extend the win to a lax critique on art, rather than an innovation or (heaven forbid) an earnest performance. How uncharacteristic.

In short: Fuck off, you harpy/harpies.

Judges ruined it. Screech.